Puck Needs A Job
by FifiDoll
Summary: Four times Puck lost his job, and one time he didn't want to. Written for the el Puckerone comm challenge on LiveJournal a while back.


Puck's first job was when we was fifteen. He worked at the fast food restaurant down the street and even though it was shitty work, he didn't mind. His coworker Joe was awesome; always supplying him with weed when he wanted it. Sometimes after work they'd go to Joe's apartment and light up, lazing in the haze of smoke, content.

One day they met up before their shift and shared a joint. It was Joe's birthday and they were going to celebrate by working high. Things were going great; the guys were giggling in the back as the fries and chicken nuggets sizzled nearby, the smell of burgers sending them into a fit of the munchies. When the manager wasn't looking they'd sneak fries and burgers and whatever they could get their hands on, eating quickly so they wouldn't get caught.

Then Puck had the urge to go to the bathroom. "Dude, I gotta pee," he muttered to Joe.

Joe laughed before looking to his side and finding the fry-a-lator. "Pee in there, dude, I dare you," Joe laughed.

"There are fries in there," Puck pointed out.

"All the better," Joe's smile twisted maniacally. "It's my birthday, and I want you to pee in there."

Puck looked wary, not wanting to mess up his first job; his mom made it sound so important. But then Joe's smirk and the thrill of breaking the rules overpowered Puck's senses and he dropped his jeans. Mid-stream, the manager walked in screaming at Puck. The words were hidden by Joe's laughs and Puck's disorientation, but over all that, he still heard, "You're fired!"

On his way out, Puck smirked at Joe and gave him a high five. As much as he knew he should, Puck didn't feel guilty at all about losing his first job.

Puck's second job started soon after the fast food restaurant; he discovered the joys of pool cleaning, or what happened if he cleaned a cougar's pool without a shirt on. Most of them were hot, had big boobs, and were going for a no-strings-attached fling. Who was Puck to argue? He _was_ the sex shark after all. And he was sixteen, which meant cougars weren't afraid to touch him. That was even better.

Things were going smoothly until Puck showed up late to Mrs. Baker's house. She was dressed in her sundress like usual, bottle of sunscreen in hand. "We'll have to make this quick, you're late," she said with a devilish smile before ushering him inside.

It started the same way it always did; he would rub sunscreen on her back, she'd get turned on, and they'd start making out. Before Puck even got a chance to reach under her dress, the door to the patio slid open. "Mary?" a voice called.

Flustered, she pushed Puck away, sending him cascading into the pool, jeans still on. "Mary, what's going on?" an older man asked, approaching the side of the pool.

Puck's stomach dropped; it was his worst nightmare: the husband. "Noah here was just cleaning our pool for us," Mrs. Baker said sweetly.

Mr. Baker looked furious. "By swimming in it?" he asked roughly.

She looked nervous and turned around to shoot Puck a glare. He got out, gathered his things and left. When he advertised a few weeks later for his pool service, he got no calls. This was rather unusual, but then supposed that a gossip monger like Mrs. Baker would have told every cougar in town that he was always late, meaning it would be easier to get caught by the husband. Mrs. Baker was the reason Puck lost his second job (well, and the fact that they live in _Ohio_).

Puck's third job was the worst, but at least he got to work with his best friend. After slashing the tires of the Range Rovers of all the members of Vocal Adrenaline, he and Finn had reluctantly taken up working at Sheets 'n Things. He was seriously suffering through this whole babygate drama, and missed Joe. Now that he didn't work at the fast food joint, Joe wouldn't speak to him. Bastard.

So one day when Puck had finished restocking the space heaters, he wandered through the store, bored, until he heard a familiar voice. "What do you mean these towels are $9.99!" the voice shouted. "It takes you _months _to get the right shade of pink and now you charge an arm and a leg for it!"

Howard Bamboo looked like he was about to have a panic attack or pee his pants or something, so Puck stepped in to diffuse the situation. "Hey Mr. Ryerson," he said, approaching.

"Why hello Noah," Mr. Ryerson nodded. "Maybe you can be a little more help than Howard, here." Howard looked at the tall flamboyant man with fearful eyes before running away at the shout of, "Get out of here!"

He turned back to Puck and asked, "I'm sorry, but $9.99 for these towels is an outrageous price. They're not even that nice. Is there any way we can cut a deal?"

Puck stared blankly for a moment before saying, "I'll cut the price of them down to $3.99 if you sell me some Chronic Lady for cheap."

Mr. Ryerson looked Puck up and down for a moment (and it totally creeped him out) before nodding and saying, "Twenty cents on the dollar."

"Deal," Puck nodded. "Grab what you want, I'll go get a register."

Mr. Ryerson began digging at the towels on the shelf as Puck made his way to register four, where Finn was struggling to pull coins out of the drawer. When he finished and handed them to the lady, Puck body checked him out of the register area. "Go restock shelves, I'm taking over," Puck said.

Finn looked confused and relieved. He hated working at the registers – it meant talking to crabby ladies and…oh god Mr. Ryerson. "Good luck, dude," Finn said as Mr. Ryerson approached before practically running away.

Every so often Mr. Ryerson would come back for towels (how many did that man need!) and Puck would light up after work. That is, until Mrs. Schuester found out. She brought him in to her office (which was actually just a desk in the back room) and sat him down. "Puck, I'm very disappointed in you. Mr. Ryerson is our best customer and we can _always_ talk him into the shelf price," she said.

"Sorry Mrs. Schue," Puck said, but his voice said otherwise. He didn't care.

"Well, I have two options," she said, a devilish, crazed smile on her face. "I can either fire you, or you can make it up to me."

She leaned over the desk, giving Puck a good view of what she had underneath, and he gulped. Mrs. Schuester was offering herself to him. If he agreed, he could keep his job. He and Finn had paid off the tires about a week before, and the money would be nice, but something inside of him wouldn't allow this to happen. It was his teacher's _wife_. Usually he was all about sleeping with cougars, but not when he _knew_ their husband and would have to _see_ him every day.

Mrs. Schuester winked at him and leaned a little further. Without giving it another thought, Puck pulled off his Sheets 'n Things apron and tossed it onto her desk before rushing out of the building. That was the end of Puck's third job.

That summer was a welcomed break from school. Puck didn't have to see Quinn every day, he could go without a shirt, and even though his pool cleaning business flopped, he could still work outdoors. This summer Puck planned on mowing lawns. He could get sexy college girls home for the summer – another clientele that would deny ever knowing him or sleeping with him.

The first few lawns were boring; only one girl had eyed him up. She wasn't even that great – the most she did was give him a hand job. He started to doubt his success at lawn mowing, if it weren't for the good money he was earning.

He would have made a bunch of money that summer if it weren't for the Holton's and their ridiculous yippy dog. Puck didn't even know what kind it was, all he knew was that it was smaller than a football (so he could punt it) and more annoying than Rachel (which was a hard status to achieve). He tried to ignore it's barking as he mowed back and forth on the lawn, creating perfect lines in the fresh cut grass.

Then it started chasing after him. He looked down by his grass stained tennis shoes and looked at the little thing. It was tiny; he could probably fit it in his pocket. "Fuck off," he muttered, knowing it wouldn't hear him over the lawn mower.

He kept going, but then it nipped at his ankle. Oh, that was the last straw. He kicked at it lightly, not hard enough to hurt the thing, but enough to scare it away. But that didn't work, and the thing started running around in front of the lawn mower. It was practically challenging Puck to try to run it over. The dog wants to play dirty? Puck can too. He pushed the mower at it and it whimpered before running forwards a bit.

They played that back and forth for a moment until one time Puck didn't stop pushing. The dog ran around the yard wherever it could, Puck chasing after it with the lawn mower. If anyone drove by and witnessed what was happening, they'd probably laugh their ass off at his immaturity, but Puck didn't care. All that mattered was shutting this damn dog up.

The chase looped around the house, up and down the yard, over already mowed grass. They were running towards the front lawn when a small girl screamed and Puck froze. The Holton's were back. Puck's stomach sank. He shut off the mower as Mr. and Mrs. Holton stalked over, furious. Their glares were enough for him; he left without a word.

Their daughter was practically in tears, worried that he had killed the dog that was very much alive in her arms. Stupid kid. That damn dog and Mrs. Holton's gossiping was the reason Puck lost his fourth job.

Puck was tired of his mother lecturing him. He was getting the "you're so irresponsible, why can't you keep a job" lecture _again_. Then his phone started ringing. When he saw who the caller was, he panicked and said, "I need to take this."

His mother looked furious, but nodded. Puck answered the phone but didn't leave for fear of pissing off his mother more. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah I have a car," he listened for a moment. "No, I haven't," he said. "Sure, if I leave now I"ll be there in time," he nodded and paused. "Yeah, I'll see you soon. Bye."

He hung up and grabbed his keys before rushing towards the door. "Where do you think you're going?" his mom asked.

"I have a job," he shrugged, walking out the door.

She looked skeptical but had no chance to say a thing. He sped off down the road in a hurry. It seemed to take forever to get to Mrs. Corcoran's house. Her babysitter had backed out at the last minute and she was the only person she could get a hold of. When Puck got there, his nerves took over. He'd never taken care of a baby before. She said all he needed to do was put her to bed and make sure she stayed asleep; easy enough. "Hi," she smiled, letting him inside.

Beth was lying in her arms, no more than four months old. "Hey," he said softly, looking down at the baby. _His_ baby. "I'm running late," Mrs. Corcoran said, handing Beth to him. "Bottle instructions and emergency numbers are in the kitchen, you have my cell number, call me if you need anything."

She grabbed for her purse and keys and made her way to the door. She stopped before leaving and said, "Thank you so much for babysitting."

"No problem," he nodded, still overwhelmed at the fact that he was holding _his_ daughter.

She smiled and walked out the door. Puck stood in the foyer completely clueless. He looked down at the baby girl he was holding. Wide blue eyes looked up at him. She made a soft cooing noise and her tiny hands gripped her blanket. He walked into the kitchen and looked at the instructions scribbled down for him.

_If you give her a bottle at 7:30 she'll be asleep by 8._

The clock said 7:27. Perfect timing. He read the instructions below that and successfully warmed up a bottle for her. Puck remembered his mother using some sort of rag as a bib when she fed his sister when she was a baby. He found one in a kitchen drawer and took the rag and bottle into the nursery with him. Just as Puck got comfortable in the rocking chair, he remembered the rest of the note.

_Don't forget to change her diaper before you put her to bed._

He stood and walked to the changing table which looked overstocked with diapers. Her blanket fell away and he noticed just how tiny she still was. She made a few fussing noises but he ignored them and set to work on her clothes. He unbuttoned the sleeper and gently pulled her legs out. Clean diaper at his side, he took his time changing her diaper so he didn't hurt her (and because he had _no clue_ what he was doing). She was almost crying now, probably out of hunger (at least, he _hoped_ it was out of hunger – he didn't want to hurt her). "Shh," he told her, holding her hand for a minute. "Shh, Beth, just a minute."

He pulled on her sleeper and snapped it shut. Slowly, he picked her up and went back to the rocking chair. Puck laid the rag underneath her chin and placed the bottle by her lips. She took it greedily and began sucking at the warm formula. He watched as her eyes began to droop with each drink from the bottle. She really did look like Quinn.

Before Puck knew it, his eyes were getting droopy as well. Somewhere along the way Puck fell asleep in the rocking chair along with his daughter.

When Mrs. Corcoran got home, she walked into the nursery and instantly got an endearing smile on her face. "Noah," she whispered softly.

His eyes fluttered open slowly and he realized what had happened. "Oh, no, I'm sorry," he whispered back.

With a light laugh, she insisted, "It's fine. I've done it before. She's very cuddly."

He just nodded, his attention back to the sleeping baby in his arms. He could feel sweat from where she was sleeping in the crook of his elbow and on the chest of his shirt. Mrs. Corcoran took Beth and laid her in her crib, resting her blanket over her. Puck felt empty when Beth was no longer in his arms. It must have shown on his face, because Mrs. Corcoran flashed him a sympathetic look before leading him out of the room.

He walked towards the door and was about to leave when Mrs. Corcoran handed him some money. "No, it's cool," he shook his head. Puck didn't even really know what he was saying, but he felt like taking money wasn't right. "I'm just glad I got to see her again."

"Take the money, Noah," Mrs. Corcoran insisted.

She noticed his almost sad expression and said, "If you'd like, you can be her regular babysitter. The other girl wasn't very dependable anyway."

Puck looked up incredulously. He had peed in a fry-a-lator, broken up a marriage, scammed a big company, and almost killed a dog and she was just going to _let_ him babysit Beth? "I'd like that," he replied earnestly.

Mrs. Corcoran beamed. "Now take the money," she put it in his hand. "I'll be sure to call you whenever I need a sitter."

"Thanks Mrs. C," Puck smiled.

She nodded before saying, "You should get home, it's late."

Puck nodded and thanked Mrs. Corcoran before getting into his car and driving back to Lima. This was a job Puck was going to keep as long as he could.


End file.
